


under the mistletoe

by thespacenico



Series: klancemas 2018 [23]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: :), :-), :-)), But he's struggling, Keith is in love, M/M, Mistletoe, bc pidge is a prankster, keith is so detERMINED, lance getting onto keith about sharks is me projecting, lance loves his fam, they draw together so that's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 06:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17913734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespacenico/pseuds/thespacenico
Summary: klancemas day 23: mistletoe





	under the mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> :)

Today is special.

Because today is the day that Keith is going to give Lance his letter.

There are a lot of things playing into his sudden motivation, he’s sure. For starters, there was the recent terrifying and unexpected revelation that all these things could have gone unsaid in more ways than one. Not to mention Adam’s spontaneous, completely impulsive and yet perfect proposal. And all the little things that have started to quickly add up ever since Keith dragged Adam into his room and freaked out because he’d finally realized that maybe he’s in love.

In love with a boy that still makes his heart stutter every time their hands touch, and brain short out when he gets close and face split into an involuntary smile at the sound of his bubbly laughter.

He’s been working on it in intervals all day, rereading and rewriting every time he gets the chance to slip away while Lance is distracted and then coming back before he’s been gone long enough for it to be noticeable. It’s turned out to be longer than Keith had really intended for it to be, but he guesses that’s his own fault for being incapable of using words when he needs to. But it’s absolutely not his fault that everything about Lance is cute and everything he does is cute and everything he says is cute and Keith isn’t about to leave out any single little thing.

He just hopes it’s not—too much. So much that it sounds a little creepy or a lot overbearing or weirds Lance out enough to scare him off.

“It’s not like he’ll dump you,” Adam tells him after lunch, when he finds Keith hunched over his letter on the floor on the far side of his room behind his bed because Lance is still eating downstairs and Keith has more time to write.

“He could,” Keith mutters, scribbling across the paper.

“He won’t,” Adam sighs.

Keith stops scribbling and plays with the corner of the page, a bit worn from the constant nervous fiddling. “How did Shiro react when he read your letter?”

Adam hums, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “He said thank you.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I mean after that.”

Adam seems to consider him for a moment, one elbow propped on his knee and chin propped in his hand. “We’re engaged,” he says eventually, wiggling the fingers on his other hand and flashing the silver band he wears to match Shiro’s.

There’s a split second where Keith can’t help but smile before he remembers he’s supposed to be annoyed because Adam isn’t being helpful. Which he totally knows, because he just smiles pleasantly when Keith shoots him a half-hearted scowl. “So you’ve both reminded us about a billion times today.”

“C’mon, Keith.” Adam leans back on his hands, going back to their original topic. “It’s _your_ letter. Just do whatever feels right.”

“You know I’m not good at that,” Keith mutters, returning to his scribbling.

“You’re still writing.”

Keith ignores him.

He steals away a few more times throughout the afternoon while Lance is reading in the library with Pidge and challenging Allura to Ping-Pong (because Allura is still undefeated and he’s determined to change that) and sneaking tastes of whatever Hunk has started to bake in the kitchen. At this point, he’s really just spending his time scanning over what he’s already written, making sure he hasn’t missed anything and that he’s made himself as clear as possible.

There’s only one decision he has left to make. A decision that has one very obvious answer, but still makes his heart skip a beat and his palms itch and his stomach twist with nerves. He knows he’s stalling. Part of him is grateful for the extra time to prepare himself. The other part is begging him to get on with it.

He’s completely finished by the time dinner rolls around. Lance sits next to him at the table and smiles at him with the combined brightness of every single star in the universe and gives Allura his bread roll and laughs when Pidge accidentally chokes on her apple juice, and it’s impossible for Keith not to think about the folded up piece of paper tucked away in his back pocket because he wants to be ready to give it to him as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

And present itself it does. Several times. Like when they’re the last two left downstairs in the living room looking through the pictures in a book Lance found about the ocean and rattling off random facts he knows from growing up on the beach and summers working at the small local aquarium near his home. And when he hides some of Hunk’s cookies in his jacket pocket to share after they sneak up to the observatory when some of the others wander back downstairs. And when they eventually wind up in their little corner underneath the window in the library to avoid suspicion in case anyone starts to wonder where in the world they went.

He doesn’t even have to say anything. All he has to do is pull it out of his pocket and hand it over, it’s not hard and Keith still can’t make himself do it. He’s pretty sure his heart rate has been just a little too high all night, and he can’t stop fidgeting and he’s starting to wonder how Lance hasn’t noticed.

Lance has Keith’s legs trapped between his own in the space between them. He’s still looking through the same book from earlier, smiling occasionally and wiggling his toes a little and twisting the book to show Keith his favorite pictures. Keith has his own conspiracy book lying open on his lap, and he’s turned the page maybe once in the past half hour. Mostly because he keeps thinking about the letter hidden in his pocket and his gaze keeps drifting up to Lance sitting across from him looking soft and perfect in the glow of the Christmas lights and he might actually lose his mind soon if he doesn’t just _do it._

 _He’s right there,_ his brain says. _There’s no one here, it’s just you and him, just give it to him and be done with it._

 _Okay,_ Keith thinks.

He doesn’t do it.

 _Oh my god,_ says his brain.

He starts a little when Lance slaps the book shut in front of him and sets it aside. “You’re not even reading.”

Keith glances down at the page he’s been stuck on. “It got boring,” he lies.

“You could’ve gotten another book.” Keith shrugs, and Lance leans forward to poke at his feet, grinning when Keith squints at him. “Do you want to do something else?”

 _This is your chance,_ Keith thinks. He clears his throat, valiantly trying to ignore the way his heart is suddenly hammering against his chest and hoping desperately that Lance can’t hear it. “Um—well, there’s something—”

“Wait, I have an idea!” Lance says suddenly, his eyes lighting up as he sits forward. “I’ll be right back.”

And then Keith can only watch helplessly as he slips to the floor and out the door before he can say anything. He shuts his eyes and drops his head back against the wall with a groan. Hopeless. Keith is absolutely and utterly hopeless. Hopelessly in love, yeah, but also just. Hopeless, in general.

“You’re an idiot,” he mutters.

He doesn’t have much time to feel sorry for himself before Lance reappears, armed with markers and a stack of paper that he promptly drops into Keith’s lap with a satisfied smile.

“Uh,” Keith says.

Lance is already settling back into his spot, spreading out his handful of markers between them and pulling a sheet of paper into his lap with his book. “I thought we could draw.”

Keith blinks down at the blank sheets splayed across the open pages of his book and tries not to think too much about his letter. “Oh.”

There’s a split second of quiet. Lance shifts a little, suddenly sounding a bit uncertain. “I mean, you don’t _have_ to, I just kind of assumed—”

“No, it’s not—it’s fine,” Keith assures him, and Lance watches as he rubs the back of his neck. “I guess I just don’t remember the last time I drew for fun.”

Lance seems to relax at that, selecting a blue marker popping the cap off and taking it straight to the paper. “I always draw with Sylvio and Nadia back home. Nadia’s actually really good, and Mami thought about sending her to art school but she wants to go to the Garrison like Veronica and me.” Keith feels his mouth turning up into a smile at the sound of the indisputable fondness in Lance’s voice that inevitably shows every time he mentions his family. “Anyway, most of the time Sylvio and I just mess around while Nadia does her fancy-pants artsy things. I can draw a pretty mean shark, though.”

He lifts his paper and turns it so Keith can see, displaying his doodle of what Keith assumes is a great white shark with a smiley face. And Keith would be lying if he said it wasn’t the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s smiling.”

“Not mean literally!” Lance scoffs, clutching his shark to his chest and crinkling the paper a little. “He’s a happy shark!”

“Probably because he just ate someone.”

“First of all,” Lance starts, and Keith snorts at the sudden sincerity of his tone. “How dare you stereotype Mr. Shark like that. And second of all, even if he did just eat a person, it’s because that person was invading his home! It was an act of self-defense!”

“Whatever you say,” Keith shrugs, reaching for a black marker.

Lance pouts and kicks lightly at his hand. Keith swats his foot away and snatches the marker before he can retaliate. “Shark hater,” Lance mumbles. He squints at Keith as he closes his book and draws his knees up to his chest to start drawing something. “What are you doing?”

Keith holds up his scribbled drawing of a shark with spiky teeth and a frowny face, bursting into laughter when Lance squawks and throws his marker at him.

Eventually they fall into a comfortable silence as they sit and draw whatever comes to mind, occasionally pausing to show each other their progress. Lance starts drawing a stick figure portrait of the team, looking a bit too pleased with himself at Keith’s representation especially, complete with a T-shirt that reads “Shark Hater,” a knife in one hand, Lance’s hand in the other, a scribbled mop of black hair, and a frowny face.

“That looks nothing like me,” Keith wheezes, once he’s managed to find some semblance of control over his laughter. 

“What are you talking about!” Lance cries, even though he’s smiling and Keith has to bend over and snicker into his knees. “This is an absolute masterpiece, Picasso _wishes_ he could.”

“You’re right,” Keith says agreeably, tossing his legs over the ledge and sitting up so he can pull out a new piece of paper for himself.

Lance swings his own legs around and scoots over to sit closer to him. “Will you draw me?”

That makes Keith freeze for some reason. “Draw you?” he echoes.

“Mhm,” Lance nods, tapping his feet on the ground. “Like one of your French boys.”

“Shut up,” Keith laughs, knocking their shoulders together as Lance grins. “But I mean—yeah, I can draw you.” He clears his throat. “If you—if you really want me to.”

Lance just nods again and shuffles closer, so Keith pulls his book back into his lap and flattens the paper against its cover and takes his time selecting a marker so he can settle his nerves.

“What color do you want?”

Lance hums thoughtfully. “You choose.”

 _Blue,_ Keith’s mind says immediately. Definitely not because Keith can’t see the color blue without thinking of Lance anymore. Or his eyes, and his armor and his excitement over the ocean.

He grabs the blue marker. Lance doesn’t say anything about it.

Maybe it’s just Keith, but there’s suddenly some kind of shift in the atmosphere as he stares down at the paper, and then tentatively begins to draw. There’s something weirdly intimate about drawing someone while they’re looking over your shoulder, especially when they’re so close and it’s hard for Keith to focus when he can feel Lance’s arm brushing against his and hear him breathing softly and smell his coconut-scented shampoo. Not only that, but he’s pretty sure there’s no way he can manage to draw Lance without giving away how completely gone he is for him.

He keeps drawing anyway. Part of him wonders if that’s because he actually really, desperately wants him to know.

Lance keeps quiet as he watches, eventually moving to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and swinging his legs a little and it takes everything Keith has to keep going. He’s finished the outline of Lance’s face, moving on to trace out his hair so he can stall having to sketch out the more important features. Like his eyes. And the slope of his nose that turns up at the end, and his freckles, and the lilt of his smile and the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners—

He doesn’t realize he’s stopped drawing until Lance lifts his head and nudges him a little. “Keith?”

 _You should give it to him,_ he thinks. _Right now. You should just give him the letter and you should—tell him._

He taps the other end of the marker against the paper and takes a deep breath. “Lance—” And then he frowns when he hears someone that sounds suspiciously like Pidge snickering from the entrance to the library. He and Lance both glance up from their little corner to see Pidge, Hunk, and Allura crowded outside the door and peeking inside, all already dressed for bed.

“Uh,” Lance starts questioningly. “What are you guys doing?”

“Yeah, they definitely haven’t noticed yet,” Pidge grins, looking very much—suspicious.

“Noticed what?”

“I don’t understand,” Allura murmurs to Hunk. “What is it?”

“It’s just tradition,” Hunk murmurs back, eyes flicking between Allura and the two boys sitting confusedly in the library.

Keith frowns. “What are you guys talking about?”

Pidge points up. Keith and Lance both lift their heads together, and at first Keith still has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about until his eyes focus on the weird, leafy green thing hanging from the ceiling—he feels his entire face go red, and Lance stiffens beside him before immediately looking back down to shoot everyone a glare.

“Pidge!” he hisses.

“What?”

Keith is still staring up at the mistletoe hanging over their heads and trying not to panic. If he weren’t already aware of how close Lance is, he definitely is now. And yeah, he’s _definitely_ kind of panicking right now and his heart might have stopped beating and his stomach keeps flipping but also—he’s not exactly… opposed to this entire situation? Obviously. As if he hasn’t thought about kissing Lance at least a billion times.

“C’mon Lance,” Hunk calls lightly. “Christmas tradition!”

Keith swallows and shoots Lance a sidelong glance. Lance is glaring at them, ears red and face flushed pink and looking a bit conflicted until he seems to realize that they aren’t going to let them out of this one.

It’s almost unfair how fast everything happens. One second Keith is wondering—hoping—if Lance will kiss him, even if it’s just. A small, chaste kiss—just a taste of what it’d be like to really kiss him. And then the next second he doesn’t even have time to react before Lance is turning and leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away just as quickly.

His face is still burning. And he’s pretty sure he’ll never _not_ be able to feel where Lance just pressed his lips to his skin, but something else that feels a lot like disappointment drops into the pit of his stomach as Lance levels the others with another glare. “Okay, you got your kiss. Happy?”

“Boo,” Pidge calls flatly, although from Allura’s smile and Hunk’s touched expression they seem to think it was all very sweet. “That’s totally cheating.”

Lance balls up a blank piece of paper and tosses it in their direction. “Go away, Pigeon.” Keith thinks he’s trying to sound nonchalant about it, but there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice that has Keith glancing over at him again.

Hunk seems to pick up on it too, because his expression falters a bit, and he steps out of the doorway and tugs Pidge along behind him. “Okay, bye, see you guys later, have fun drawing!”

Allura smiles cheerily at them before ducking away, leaving the two of them alone again in the library. Keith is quiet, looking back down at his unfinished drawing. Lance takes a deep breath and sighs. “Sorry.”

Keith has no idea what he’s apologizing for. _For everyone else interrupting my drawing? For kissing me on the cheek? For not—kissing me?_ “It’s fine,” he hears himself say.

Lance sounds—off, all of a sudden. “So, um. What were you about to say?”

“Oh.” Keith almost feels like his letter is burning a hole into his pocket at this point. He opens his mouth and hesitates. “I—nothing. It’s not important.” And then he finds himself standing, maybe a bit abruptly, and Lance blinks up at him. “We’ve been in here for a while.”

Lance blinks again. “Yeah,” he responds, a bit more like a question than an answer.

“It’s getting late.”

Lance’s shoulders almost seem to slump. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Keith realizes that he’s still holding his picture and marker and looks down at them. “Uh, I can finish this later. If you want.”

“Okay.” Lance seems to falter for a moment, offering a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before standing to follow Keith.

Keith knows that nothing is wrong. There’s nothing wrong, everything is fine, _they’re_ fine. He just suddenly feels—off, as they’re walking down the hallway together to their rooms. And he thinks it’s his own fault, he’s being weird because he thought—but it’s not like—no one did anything wrong, he’s just—being weird. He’s not sure what’s going through Lance’s mind right now.

They pause in the space between their rooms, both of them probably uncertain about what happens next. Ever since the night they came back to the cabin from their date, it’s just become normal to sleep in each other’s rooms, but it almost seems like a new line has been drawn between them. Not impossible to cross, but requiring some kind of permission, maybe, although he doesn’t know who drew it.

Keith taps the marker on his thigh. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” he asks carefully.

Lance licks his lips, and Keith tries desperately not to stare. “Actually, I think I might try to sleep by myself tonight.”

He tries not to feel disappointed. That’s fine. That’s totally, completely understandable. Lance needs space to heal. That’s great. “Okay,” he nods. “But come over if you can’t sleep. Or if you have a nightmare. Or—anything. Okay?”

Lance shoots him a small smile. “I will.”

“Promise?” Keith blurts.

The little laugh that pulls from Lance saves Keith from the embarrassment of sounding maybe just a bit too earnest. He crosses over his heart as he backs away to his room. “I promise. See you.”

When Keith closes the door, he presses his back against it, drops the paper and marker to the floor, and slaps a hand to his forehead. Maybe mutters a few choice words under his breath. He touches his cheek where Lance had—kissed him. Then remembers the letter sitting untouched in his back pocket.

He lets out a frustrated breath and slides to the floor, dropping his head back with a quiet thud. His marker rolls a bit and comes to a stop against his leg, and he glances down at it. Over at his overturned drawing. Chews on his lip.

He sneaks across the hallway and slips the picture underneath Lance’s door when he’s finished.

Lance texts him almost immediately after, which is when Keith knows they’re okay.

 

 **lancey lance:** wow who’s that guy? he looks so handsome

 **Keith K:** yeah  
he’s okay i guess

 **lancey lance:** :’(

 

Keith bites his lip, trying to hold back the smile that has become pretty much inevitable every time he texts Lance. It’s almost nostalgic, thinking about the first half of the month they spent staying up and texting each other from across the hallway. And then, only because it’s over text and everyone knows it’s easier to be bold over text than in person:

 

 **Keith K:** he’s even better-looking in person

 **lancey lance:** <3 <3 <3

 **Keith K:** :)

 **lancey lance:** UGH so cute  
night <3

 

Keith thinks about the other day that Krolia sent him a heart. _It’s normally supposed to represent love._ He wonders if Lance uses them the same way.

 

 **Keith K:** night  
<3

**Author's Note:**

> hey remember [this post](https://taxashi.tumblr.com/post/182038373993/taxashi-me-thinking-about-how-mad-some-of-yall)
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.taxashi.tumblr.com)!  
> 


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